


sunshine

by galaxyeyedrops



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 09:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11621070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyeyedrops/pseuds/galaxyeyedrops
Summary: Post-Canon AU. Akira and Goro go to the beach.Vague spoilers for the 7th palace.





	sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the beach here is based off Zushi Beach in Kanagawa, only an hour or so away from Tokyo.
> 
> Unedited as usual bc, yolo (well partially edited now)

Google Maps says that the beach is only a ten minute walk from the station. Easy and simple it implies, _you'll be there right away._

Goro's feet would claim otherwise. Wearing flip flops on a crowded train was questionable enough (unavoidable unfortunately, they only packed a single duffel bag and Akira had commandeered most of the room for their lunch, making the idea of tossing dirty shoes there unsavory at best) but walking in them is infinitely worse.

The foam is thin enough that he can feel every loose pebble, every bit of unevenness to the pavement, yet sturdy enough to constantly toss dirt back towards his feet, the grit sticking in between his toes, only to be rubbed off and replaced by a new round.

 

Akira walks ahead, his natural sense of direction and familiarity with local landmarks leading them out of whatever strange alley the navigation app decided to drop them at. He wears flip flops too, but unlike Goro, he is comfortable in them. His steps are lighter, at ease, feet stubbornly clean.

Akira’s footsteps stop, Goro's following shortly after, head lifting to take in their surroundings. They're not quite there yet, but the beach is within sight, sand and shops visible beyond a line of road.

Akira offers a hand. Goro walks with him, side by side.

 

They stop at the beach houses first, putting away the duffel bag, taking the essentials with them in a smaller tote. Akira takes off his t-shirt quickly, crumpling it up and tossing into the duffel.

He's sweating already, rivulets running down his back, but grinning when he catches where Goro's attention lingers.

Goro clears his throat, speaking before Akira has any chance to comment. “Let's explore a bit,” he says. “I've heard good things about some of these shops.”

Akira's amusement is ever present, but he follows regardless.

 

The closest shops are in beach houses, similar to the one where they had dropped off their things. Small, not too small, wooden, and smelling strongly of brine.

The merchandise is to be expected. Several of the beach houses are bars, with a few activity booths and tourist shops inter-spaced between.

It isn't long before the lifeguard sets up a blue flag to signal that it's safe to swim. Akira and Goro walk to the shore as soon as the announcement is made, matching cell phone charms (as well trinkets for Akira's friends) tucked safely into the tote. Goro carefully folds his button down shirt inside as well, grabbing a bottle of sunscreen in exchange.

He uncaps it, turning it upside down, starting to squeeze when a hand on his wrist stops him.

“Let me,” Akira says.

 

Akira is familiar with giving massages and it shows.

He treats the sunscreen like oil, rubbing it on his own hands before letting any touch Goro. His fingers, long and tapered, glide across the planes of Goro's back.

His thumbs dig deep into every crevice. Circular motions dragging out the fatigue, repeated over and over again to properly loosen up the muscle.

Hands edge dangerously near Goro's stomach, a finger dips slightly into his bellybutton before he tells Akira to stop.

“Back only,” he says, warily eyeing the other beach-goers.

Akira concedes with a hum, never straying further. He finishes with a pat on the other's back, handing back the sunscreen bottle for the rest.

Goro's application is much quicker. He pours a large glob into his hands, and works his way down, coating every visible inch of skin within seconds.

He applies a bit more care when it comes to Akira’s back ( _have you seriously been wandering around shirtless, without any sunscreen this entire time?_ ) but his technique is more or less the same.

He shuts the cap with a click when they're both done, wiping off any excess off the edges, and placing it back in the tote.  He takes a couple of steps forward.

 

Goro clears a bit of space around himself, bending a knee, back straight, into a lunge. Akira does not join him.

“It's important to stretch.” Goro says, not bothering to look back, shifting positions. “Getting a leg cramp while swimming would be fairly embarrassing for the Leader of the Phantom Thieves.”

“Don't worry, I'll just watch from here.”

Goro stops. “You're not going to swim?”

“Someone has to watch over our things.”

“Nothing here is that expensive. Plus,” Goro points to the pocket of his trunks. “This is waterproof, so my wallet will be fine.”

“Someone might try to steal our spot,” Akira rebutts.

Goro narrows his eyes. “You're just looking for excuses, aren't you?”

Akira smiles winningly. “Are they working?”

Akira watches his boyfriend walk off, a smile plastered over clenched teeth.

 

Goro returns, though, minutes later, carrying a large inner tube. Akira sighs. Trust the ace detective to get to the root of the problem so quickly.

As he approaches, the pattern on the apparatus becomes recognizable. Akira raises an eyebrow as his boyfriend hands the inner tube over to him. “Featherman, huh?”

Goro feels his face grow warmer. “The plain ones were all taken,” he says, refusing to betray anything else.

Akira sighs again. “Fine,” he says, idly tracing Red Hawk's helmet with a finger. He gets up slowly, following a beaming Goro to the shore.

 

The water is cold, colder than Goro was expecting. It washes away all the accumulated dirt and sand when he dips his feet in. It makes him shiver, hairs raised, as the rest of his body follows suit.

It affects Akira too, the other boy clutching the inner tube like a lifeline, fingers digging deep enough to pierce.

Goro offers a hand and his best smile. _Trust me,_ he says, pulling Akira further and further in.

Despite his misgivings, Akira takes to the water quickly. He's a fast learner, imitating the kicks Goro shows him to perfection, timing each breath effortlessly.

“You're doing well,” Goro says, watching Akira's choppy but uniform strokes across the water's surface. “Keep this up and you'll outpace me in no time.”

Akira smirks. “Who says I haven't already?”

“The fact that you haven't figured out how to float yet."

Akira shrugs exaggeratedly. "You've caught me there, Mr Detective."

 

“Anyways,” Goro says, eyes turned towards the sky. “I think we'll do a couple more laps here and then head back.”

Laps are exhausting but fun. Goro swims ahead of him, frequently looking back, holding onto Akira's hand, pulling him forward every time he lags behind. He swims around him, tapping whatever limb he isn't working enough. It'd be annoying if he wasn't so eager, frustrating if Akira himself didn't give back as much as he got.

Goro's laughing at a joke of Akira’s, leading him through a turn when he feels something brush up against his ankle. There's a sting, followed by waves and waves of pain.

He flinches, letting go of Akira's hand, and kicking back reflexively, a mistake, pain blooming on another spot.

“You okay?“ Akira asks, eyes wide as Goro shifts back, eyes scanning his previous spot.

“Just a jellyfish.” Goro grits out, grabbing Akira's hand and starting to wade back to the beach.

Akira stills. “Anything dangerous?”

Goro shakes his head. “I checked right after.” His voice wavers but he forces it to remain even. “While I couldn't see much, the structure was dissimilar any of the deadly ones here.”

“But it still hurts, right?” Akira asks, watching Goro's features shift. He raises a hand up placatingly. “I'm not looking down on you or anything. Just think of it as a leader thing.”

Goro blinks once, but then looks down, exhaling slowly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Getting in the inner tube would work,” Akira says, twisting a finger through his bangs as he thinks. “I should be able to push you back with no problems.”

Goro struggles for a second, but Akira's gaze bores into him, unyielding.

He sighs, letting go of Akira's hand to lift the tube off his boyfriend and onto himself. “Lead the way, Joker.”

 

(He splashes a bit too much, form falling apart soon enough, but he does manage to push Goro to shore. And for that, Goro cannot find any faults.)

 

Back on the beach, Goro inspects the site of the sting properly. A collection of raised bumps shift into angry purple lines. They wraps around his ankle like manacles, not unfamiliar to the wounds Akira had following his second arrest.

Behind him, Goro hears the rustle of wet cloth and turns to see Akira struggling to pull his underwear down.

“Just what are you trying to do?”

“I'm gonna pee on it,” Akira explains, as if it's the most simple thing in the world. “You know, to make it less–“

“No,” Goro interrupts. He stares Akira down. “That's not happening.”

“But–“

“ _No.”_

“There are far more hygienic methods than _that_ ,” Goro says, moving forward so that his ankle is covered by the sea water. “More effective, as well.”

He pulls out his wallet, reaching in to grab his Student ID. He carefully scrapes the edges of the wound with the card, slowly pulling out stingers, and washing them off in the water. He gathers up sand, burying his ankle, along with his foot. He cranes his neck to face Akira. “Like this,” he says.

“Offer’s still on the table,” Akira responds.

 

Akira walks off soon after to grab lunch. The beach house where they left their supplies was a bit far away, so Goro amuses himself by drawing in the sand. Its coarse, not quite the white sands he's seen in the brochures, nor the ones he's experienced in the minds of the corrupt, but it'll do. He's halfway through his fifth logo redesign when his boyfriend taps him on the shoulder and spreads out a picnic blanket right behind him.

There are are plastic containers, containing curry and rice, a thermos filled with coffee, as well as a bottle of oolong tea. Akira pours both out into separate foam cups, the coffee for himself and the tea for Goro.

 

They both take a sip, then another, and put the glasses near the corner to finish later. Goro grabs an antibacterial wipe from the tote, cleaning his hands, before offering the pack to Akira. They eat slowly, Goro especially, refilling his glass many times throughout the meal.

“What do you think?” Akira asks, leaning forward. “I'm trying something new.”

“It's good,” Goro says, between bites. “A bit too much turmeric if anything.”

He swallows, takes another sip. “Are you working on your own spice mixes?”

“Pretty much.” Akira says. “I like LeBlanc’s recipe a lot but I wanna try something of my own.”

Goro scrapes his spoon along the side of his plate, gathering up the leftover curry and rice. He takes another bite and smiles. “I'll be cheering you on, then.”

They throw all the trash into one plastic bag, packing the remaining food tightly into another. Akira lifts one end of picnic blanket, motioning Goro to take the other. “There's something I want to show you,” he says.

They walk, blanket fluttering between them, to the south side of the beach. They shake off any sand before placing it down. Akira points, Goro's eyes following, towards Mount Fuji, visible in the distance. The peak is clear, the heat had melted the snow off weeks back, but the mountain is no less beautiful for it. The sky is darker now, warm hues illuminating the peak, softening its edges, distorting it's refection in the water.

Akira rests his hand on Goro's as they watch the sun set.

 

 _I'm tired of losing things_ , Akira tells him later, as the orange hues melt into dusk.

He watches the windsurfers race by, sails fluttering, and where Goro only sees freedom, Akira hears ship horns and his friends’ goodbyes.

Goro squeezes his boyfriend's hand tight. He tells him that he'll always be by his side. It's impossible he knows, unrealistic.

But it doesn't feel like a lie.

 

“I've been thinking,” Goro tells Akira as they change. There's a laugh, a murmured _of course you have_ , but Goro ignores him and continues. “There's a hotel near here, a ryokan really, as you should already be aware, and I'm not exactly short on cash.”

Akira considers the proposal, slowly slipping on a clean pair of pants. “Do I need to buy condoms?”

“It's not for sex.”

“No really, it isn't,” he adds, in reply to Akira's unimpressed stare. “I wasn't even thinking about–”

Goro stops.

He breathes, cutting off any of his own ramblings before they start, finishes buttoning up his shirt, and tries again.

“I've been thinking,” he repeats, starting over. “That it would nice if we could stay here a bit longer.”

“So no sex? At all?”

Goro pinches the bridge of his nose. “I already packed condoms,” he admits.

He doesn't even need to look to know that Akira is laughing at him.

 

Goro presses the number on the website and holds the phone up to his ear. He nods as the receptionist talks, listening to the entire message, only speaking when they stop.

“Yes, I was wondering if you had any rooms available for tonight?”

He nods to Akira and together, side by side, they start to walk.

(Google Maps says it's three minutes away.)


End file.
